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Who Knows What He Washed With That Stuff?!

, , , | Right | CREDIT: mgracie18 | October 24, 2021

I work at a soap store. During the intense health crisis months last summer, we were only open for curbside pickup, or if you approached the entrance and knew exactly what you wanted, we would grab the items for you and use a mobile point-of-sale system for quick checkout. You could not come inside the store, and we tried to maintain a strict six-foot distance from all customers. It was very slow, and we barely had any customers, let alone had anything interesting happen.

One day, the phone rang, and I jumped at the chance to answer it because I was that bored. The person calling sounded like an older woman, and she asked me if I could help her with a product recommendation, and I said I could.

Lady: “I bought this bar soap for my husband, and it’s not from your store, but it is irritating his skin. I was wondering if you guys would have something really similar but with gentler ingredients that won’t irritate him.”

Me: “I’m sure we can find something; we have a lot of options. Can you describe the smell or what it feels like? Is it more exfoliating or moisturizing?”

Lady: “I have no idea how to describe it. I wouldn’t even know what words to use.”

Me: “Does it smell citrusy like lemon or orange? Can you tell me some of the ingredients?”

Lady: “I have no clue. He’s used it up mostly so I can’t tell.”

Me: “Okay.”

Lady: “It would be easier if you guys could give it a sniff and see for yourselves. Can I bring it over?”

Me: “Ma’am, it would not be the safest for employees to smell or make physical contact with something in your husband’s personal possession right now, or ever. But maybe we can find another solution. If you have a picture or bring it safely contained the next time you stop by, we might be able to find something similar that works for you.”

Honestly, I was just trying to say anything to end the conversation; I wasn’t expecting her to actually still come.

Lady: “Okay, I will come by soon and you guys can figure it out. Bye!”

Later that day, this middle-aged woman came to the door holding something wrapped in paper towels in her hand. I knew immediately who it was.

Lady: “Hi, I spoke with someone on the phone about a soap I have, and I want to know if you have something that smells similar.”

She unwrapped the small chunk of tan-colored soap onto the table/makeshift barricade in front of my coworker and me and looked at us expectantly. It definitely looked well used.

Me: “Ma’am, like we said, we are not willing to smell your soap. But we would be happy to recommend something to you if you can give us more detail; we can compare it to some of ours. It kind of looks like this one—”


Coworker: “We are not going to smell your soap because, frankly, we don’t know where it’s been.”

Lady: “Great, I drove all the way here because you said you would.”

Me: “No, I said we were open to finding another solution. I don’t think there is any way we can help you.”

She stormed away, still not comprehending the ridiculousness of her original request. My coworker and I had something funny to laugh about, and for the first time that summer, I couldn’t say I was bored.

The People-Are-Gross Crisis Has Been Going On For Centuries

, , , , , , , | Working | October 22, 2021

I’m introduced to some new staff who have transferred into the project team. There is a bit of awkwardness as no one knows whether to shake hands, bump elbows, or what.

One of the new guys puts his hand out to shake mine.

Me: “I won’t, if you don’t mind.”

New Guy: “Oh, come on. [Disease] is not even around anymore.”

It certainly is.

Me: “I’ll refrain, thanks.”

New Guy: “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not infected! Just shake my hand!”

Me: “Oh, it has nothing to do with [disease]. I just saw you walk out of the bathroom without washing your hands.”

Cue a moment of awkwardness as everyone who had shaken hands with him quietly considered cleaning theirs. Seriously, wash your hands, people! Crisis or no crisis!

Insert A Pun Here About Us Having Reservations

, , , | Right | CREDIT: mstarrbrannigan | October 21, 2021

I had a woman come to the desk to check in. I took her ID and card and checked her against the Do Not Rent list before proceeding. And there she was: about a month before, she was added to the list because we received a number of noise complaints about her room and she was throwing cigarette butts on a guest’s car.

I returned her ID and her card to her.

Me: “I’m afraid we will not be honoring your reservation because you are on our Do Not Rent list.”

Woman: “Why?”

Me: *Lying* “I don’t know why; it’s just a list of names.”

I do this because one, I was not the one who dealt with the situation and knew very few details, and two, I rarely give people the reason because I don’t have to and chances are they’re just going to argue against it anyway. This way, it’s harder for them to say they didn’t do what they did.

She didn’t like that answer.

Woman: “Call a manager!”

I declined, which she also didn’t like. We went back and forth; she kept insisting I had to tell her why she was on the DNR list, and I kept pointing out that I didn’t.

Woman: “This is discrimination!”

I assume she said this because she was Hispanic, as well as trans.

Me: “No, that would be illegal.”

I don’t discriminate against folks anyway, but it wasn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

After a few minutes, she refused to leave, and I had another guest to check in.

Woman: “I have every right to stay at this hotel! I’m not going anywhere unless I’m trespassed.”

I shrugged, said, “Okay,” and picked up the phone to call the police. She got mad that I was calling the police and stormed off, screaming at me.

About twenty minutes later, a man came up to the desk.

Man: “I want to apologize for my friend’s behavior. She’s going to stay somewhere else, but I’d still like to stay here.”

Me: “No. Because you’re with someone on the Do Not Rent list, we won’t rent to you, either.”

He didn’t argue; he just left. The irony was that I hadn’t seen him with her because of where he parked. If he’d said nothing, I wouldn’t have known they were together.

The next day, a man came up to the window to check in. He was wearing a mask. Because we had been using a night window to check people in, not everyone had been wearing a mask. I wasn’t positive, but I had an inkling he might be the guy from the previous day. I took his ID and credit card anyway and checked his name against the DNR list. And guess who was there?

I returned his ID and his card to him and told him he was on the list, and he hung his head and sulked off. Afterward, I checked the cameras and played CSI, using his tattoos to confirm it was the same guy as yesterday.

Nice try with the mask. Too bad he was already stupid here once before.

Locked Up With Fear

, , , , , , | Right | October 21, 2021

My family owns a restaurant in the city. We are offering food for people in need and the homeless in these crazy health-scare times.

A man comes into the store on his second visit here. I realize during his first visit that he is mute and types on his phone to communicate with me. During his first visit, he asked many questions like, “How many employees does this restaurant have?”, and so on. I thought it was odd but not too bad. He asked for the food for the people-in-need special and left soon afterward.

Today, his second visit, he comes to ask for food again. He types on his phone and shows me that he’s asking for food.

Me: “Sure! Let me grab that for you.”

I start to pack food for him when I notice he’s heading to the front door, which he then locks. I see this and I start to inwardly freak out. Why would he lock the door?!

Me: “Please unlock the door.”

Customer: *Gesturing* “What?”

Me: “Unlock the door. You’re making me really uncomfortable.”

He unlocked the door and walked out. I ran to the back and told my dad what happened. 

I’m still a bit shaken. It was such a small thing, but I am manning the front by myself and I don’t know who he is. I didn’t want to be on the six o’clock news.

Short And Not So Sweet

, , , , , | Working | October 18, 2021

I saw a pair of shorts in a shop window for dirt cheap, but it was Sunday, so the shop was closed. When I went back the next day, I found the owners, an old couple, standing right by the door, which I thought was perfect because I didn’t have to go in and could just point at the item. I stood near the door and called out, and the male owner came up to me.

Me: “Hi, this pair of shorts you have here?” *Pointing* “What size are they?”

Male Owner: “It’s [price]. It’s for a double bed.”

Realising he thinks I mean the bed sheet that is currently placed in front of the window, obscuring the view of the pair of shorts, I try again.

Me: “No, no, the shorts!

I gesture with my hands near my knees where the shorts would normally end.

Female Owner: Shorts, [Male Owner]! He wants shorts!

Me: “Yeah, shorts — these ones behind here. What size are they?”

Male Owner: “No.”

Thinking he’s maybe hard of hearing and having trouble understanding me because of the mask I’m wearing, I go a little slower and a little clearer.

Me: “What size are they? Are they a small, medium, large?”

Male Owner: “No!”

Me: *Now baffled* “No?”

Male Owner: “No.”

Me: “Okay.” *Walks off*

I wonder how much they normally sell at that shop.